All is Numb
by Cosmic Castaway
Summary: Sometimes your greatest enemy is yourself.


**Disclaimer:  **_I own none of the characters.  I'm just using and abusing and then __giving them back when I'm done playing with them.  _

 **Author Notes: **_It's been a long time coming that I would show back up again.   It's been a year since I've written anything, and it's nice to actually be back in the game.  I'm hoping by writing this I'll be able to get my other stories up off the ground, and find that muse that has been buried out in New Jersey somewhere next to Jimmy Hoffa.   _

_I was a bit worried about this story for a long time as to what the nature of it is and how I wrote it.  It's rather dark, actually darker then anything I have ever posted.   Depending on how it's received I might continue with it, such as the repercussions and the effect it would have on the character.  But will see.  This is my first CSI: NY, it was going to be just a CSI story but slowly but surely it turned into a NY one. _

**Thanks** _– Goes out to my girl, __**Boscogirl**__ Where would I be without you chicka? I appreciate you so much and thank you so much for reviewing and fixing my stupid mistakes._

**All Is Numb**

        The person that stares back at me in the mirror cannot be myself, but an illusion from the deepest dark regions of my mind.  It has to be but a dream of some sort, a nightmare that I can not wake from.  My pale skin is making the darker bruises that litter my face stand out along with the black eye that is swollen shut.  Blood that is either dried up or still flowing freely mixes in with dirt or God only knows what**,** making the blood look even darker thanusual.  That was just looking at my face.  My entire body was screaming in pain.  The slightest movement the wrong way would cause a jolt of throbbing and a whole set of injuries would make themselves present. 

          The shower I had started only a few minutes ago was running off in the background, but it sounded amillion miles away, as though I wasn't standing there**,** but somebody else was.  I was looking through someone else's eyes, feeling their excruciating torture and I was secure in a safe place where no agony could come towards me. 

I sadly knew that wasn't the case and was brought back to reality by the mirror beginning to fog up and the raspy cough that came from my chest making it scream out in pain. I wondered how this could have happened.  What had I done to deserve this?  What could I have done differently to stop it? So I didn't have to put myself back together now. 

It only happened just merely a few hours ago yet I still can feel the hands on me, ripping out chunks of my hair, punching me in various spots just to halt me from struggling against the assault that was being done to my body.  Then suddenly with that line of thinking**,** my stomach flipped on itself and I found myself scrambling towards the toilet.  I almost did not have enough time to flip the lid up before I lost whatever was left of my food from earlier that day.  My abdomen clinched like a tight bow and arrow, and it was just another added misery to my suffering.  I had thrown up already so not having enough in my stomach was causing havoc on my system and though I felt I was done**,** my body told me other wise.  It took everything in me not to pass out right there by the toilet, just to let go and get lost in my subconscious and hide from this nightmare my life had just become.  But that wasn't an option, I had to get clean.  I had to get it off me.  With reserved energy I pulled my body up, shut the top, flushed, and began undressing. 

I stepped into the hot shower that was almost unbearable but I didn't care, because all I kept thinking was I had to burn the entire night away off my body. I hoped what ever went down the drain that night would go with my memories and never haunt me again.  But even I knew better to think that way, for you can wish all you want but it doesn't change the past. 

Taking the soap**,** I rubbed it over every inch of my body, and if I couldn't reach a certain spot I had a scrubber do it for me.  I know it was safe to say I did this for fifteen minutes until I heard the bottle make one gasp and I knew I was out of soap. I found myself angry at the idea I was out, when I felt I was not even close to being done from the ritual of bathing what I could feel was still on my body. So the sound of the bottle could be heard being thrown up against the wall as I had thrown it out of the shower, feeling a sense of accomplishment over come me. Letting out a sigh, I knew this would not solve a damn thing and not enough cleaning would make me feel like I got everything off. 

So I finally climbed out of the shower and wrapped the towel around me I almost felt guilty.  I had done the one thing you are not supposed to do and that was getting rid of the evidence.  The wise thing would have been was go to the hospital.  But I couldn't face that kind of humiliation, that kind of truth to the reality.  I had already suffered enough**,** why make it worse and the fear of one of my coworkers finding out just scared the hell out of me.  That I had been…..

No!  I would not think it.  As I made my way towards the mirror again I saw with no big surprise it was fogged up.  I could no longer see my reflection so I then took my hand and made a big streak and there I was once more.  The same me only, I was different now.  I could feel it in my very soul I was changed.  Suddenly and surprisingly a single tear formed out of the corner of my good eye.  It dropped slowly down my check and I brought my hand to catch it. Then anger just boiled up from the depths of hell itself and I brought my fist back and punched the mirror**,** shattering it instantly.  Glass was now embedded into my knuckles and blood began to pour profusely.  But I couldn't feel anything, as I placed my hand by my side and drops began to drip onto the cold white tile floor. 

My phone began ringing and as I walked out to the living room, the drops showing my path of direction, I had already made up my mind that I wasn't going to answer.  I knew who it was and when the answering machine kicked in, it would be a message of concern.  The phone stopped and a voice could be distinctly heard throughout the apartment. 

"Hey Flack, this is Danny.  You disappeared at the bar, just making sure you made it home safely.  Give me a call back when you get this message…" heavy silence could be heard throughout the apartment and then the click of the phone being disconnected from the other end as the voicemail shut off. 

**~Finis~**


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